The story of a suitcase

My flight arrived in the morning. Extremely tired as I could not sleep during the flight. I got out of the airport and took a cab home. It was another thick dark grey sky- day but I was glad to be home after three weeks away. The day before I arrived I wrote him a message, asking him to come and pick me up at the airport. He could not at the time I asked as he had to teach until 2pm that day. I live in a building with no elevator and my flat is on the second floor. My back and heels problems do not allow me to carry the big and heavy suitcase up to the apartment. I could have asked the taxi driver and tipped more but somehow I preferred asking him. He told me not to worry and to leave my luggage downstairs. He told me he would come later on in the afternoon and bring it up for me. He also suggested me to come to his workplace instead of going home from the airport. Anything is possible just to avoid me carrying the suitcase up to my flat; anything is possible just to avoid me walking up all the steps with the suitcase. For that he wrote mail after mail to make sure that I would not do it by myself and I would wait for him to come. I answered him to not worry and that the suitcase would wait for him in the hall of the building.

I arrived home, took a shower and especially tried hard to not fall asleep. I drank coffee then tea and refused to eat to avoid the process of digesting which could make me even more tired and sleepy. He would come by 3pm. I roughly calculated the time he got out of class and the time he would need to reach my apartment. At 1pm I put on my pajama and struggled against the fatigue. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked unhealthy. My eyes were dark. My skin was pale. My hair was a mess. I was even more tired as the afternoon went by. At 2pm I was almost in a dream, walking around my living room. I practiced harpsichord for ten minutes but my fingers could hardly move. At 2.30 I received a text from him. He said he arrived soon. At 2.40pm I decided cowardly to lie on my bed for a few minutes. Things not to do as I fell asleep in less than one second. He rang the bell at 3pm. He could use the spare key I gave him once, but no, he rang. I woke up, more than stoned. I opened the door. He was there with my suitcase. He smiled and said that he woke me up he was sure. He said that the suitcase was light but of course not for me. I let him in. I realized that I was still on pajama. I remembered my face in the mirror one hour before. Pale skin, no makeup, hair in a mess, tiny eyes behind an old pair of eyeglasses, the one I only use at home, in front of no one. I said something like I am ugly and in pajama. He answered with a smile and a sound “tttssssss”. I added – And I am fat from all the food in the US. He said – nope you are not. I asked him to make us some tea and went directly to the living room and lied down on the sofa. I am so tired and lazy, could you make a green tea for us please. I was a great host, of course. I talked to him from the sofa. He asked me how was my trip and if I was happy to see my family over there. He came back with a pot of tea. He sat down next to me. I told him everything about my trip. When I checked my watch for the first time it was 6pm. He was there for three hours and we just talked non-stop. I felt like we were building together a new world or we were belonging to another world than the one we are living in now. I told him I had nothing to cook and I was not hungry either and all I wanted was to hit my bed. The whole time I was with him I was just myself and looked like nothing else than myself in the morning, when I get out of the shower. The whole time he looked at me in his unique way of looking at me. He said he would leave me so that I could go to bed. The whole time he talked to me in his unique way of talking to me. I told him the next time I would cook for him and I would be more awake and attentive to the conversation. I said that the next time we meet I would talk more. He laughed, kissed me on the forehead. I accepted the kiss. I stood there, barefoot, in my sloppy pajama, looking at him putting on his jacket and his backpack. He kissed me again on the forehead and left.

I went to bed right after that. The next morning I woke up and got a text from him: “Hope you got a sound sleep. I like that you feel comfortable around me in your pink pajama (with a smiley)”, to which I answered: “Very comfortable but still very ugly”, to which he in turn answered with a big-laugh smiley.

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I can’t believe in ugly souls

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“While they are still alive, people can become ghosts” (Kafka On the Shore – Haruki Murakami)

I have never been closer to someone’s frustration and fear of rejection than in the last 24 hours.

Have you ever looked at someone’s eyes and all you can see is hatred and anger ? The words are hard, the voice of despair and anger, the body smell of failure, the whole world is to be blamed.

Have you ever looked at someone’s eyes and thought that one more second of that gaze and your beliefs and world would be ruined forever.

I have never considered someone as an ugly person. I have never dealt with violence and bad intentions. I embrace life and the world with the idea that if I can see beauty in everything in the roughest condition, someone else could see it too. If I could share my optimism, someone else can feel it too.

I have encountered ugliness during the last 24 hours. It shook me quite badly. I almost felt lost.

I don’t believe in mean people. I can’t believe in ugly souls.

I was scared this weekend.

I was scared that such encounter would change me.

Here I am, praying to find peace and love again.

Luckily I received words of comfort from my dearest friend from far away, I found back beauty. In him.

The samurai in the pale rose convent

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In the pale rose convent

I retract myself

I hide myself

I befriend intensively with loneliness

No noise

No trouble

In the pale rose convent

I touch the warm walls

Pale old pink of time wear

Far from me

The precarious outside world

Hard feelings and emotions

Games of power

Symbols of success

Negations as motto

I might be faint

Opening my door

Only to you

Appear like a samurai

Touching my heart

With your good intentions

Following me in my retreat

Tomorrow I go and get the sun for you

Tomorrow I go and get the sun for you

I will go and get enough of everything for you

Things you need and things you don’t need

They say the world will end tomorrow

Why should I care?

Why should I believe?

Bear in me the eternity

The beauty, the serenity

The day we met

Tomorrow I go and get the sun for you

The world should not end that way

I just need a few more time

To bring this sun to you

My lovely eternity

Beauty, serenity

You have to do it yourself

You are lost

The world is rude to you

Love forgets you

No aim

No shelter

Only your adventurous soul survives

You are tired

Come back to me with no hope

You close your eyes

Dream of us

In another world

In this one

Nothing works

One moment of peace you ask for

Lie on the sand with me

Drink to the horizon

By me you can stay

As long as you want

My love has left you

I protect you

The other ways

But I can’t build a new world for you

Lie on the sand with me

And breathe

Let your pain go away

By me you can stay

And cry

But do it for yourself

Because I can’t do it for you

I protect you

With my old love

But I can’t build a new world for you

Christmas is approaching

In the USA, there is Thanksgiving tonight. A tradition with no great importance over here in Europe. But I can feel the emotions and the family touch this evening. On Facebook, my friends put on their status: “Happy Thanksgiving to all.” It sounds familiar to me. I feel close to them.

In my city, downtown this evening was over-crowded. There was a parade celebrating the Christmas lightening. Shops were opened till late, shop owners offered warm mulled wine mixed with cinnamon and ginger. The lights were on, everywhere and the magic was there. I don’t specially like Christmas time but I had to admit, Christmas lights just like fireworks, it is impossible not to like and not to find them beautiful. For a second, I just happened to be a kid again, all excited with the colors of the lights and the smell of cinnamon coming from the wreathes made of dried flowers and fruits.

In other places it is still warm with sunshine all year long. Where you are precisely it is now summer with sandy beaches. Christmas will be in a different atmosphere where you are probably. I saw the video you had sent to me earlier on your Jiu Jitsu club. It was not long and I recognized you in the video. Just for one or two seconds. Not more than that. I imagined easily the place where you are right now. I envy the warmth, the sunshine which can reach your skin. I envy your sparring partners, I envy your teachers, those who can hear you laugh everyday. But I don’t lose hope, I guess soon it is gonna be my turn too. To hear you laugh. Even if it would probably not be in a place with summer time and sun. It would still be paradise.

Tonight it feels like Christmas is approaching.

From here, from there. From here I am. From there where you are.

Tonight I miss you. In peace.

The crusade

 

I somehow have built something very specific for myself. I could give it a name “my world”. Living inside of it gives me peace. Those who are dreamers like me might have done the same thing.

When I live outside of my world, I feel like going on a crusade, heading to a battlefield with only one weapon, my sincerity. It has been going on and on like that for years. In matters of love. This quest for love is probably an endless mission with a meaning, which until today is still unknown for me.

At nights when I come home, I look at the wounds and bruises and I ask myself: “What does this all mean to me?” The answer is never a clear one because there is simply no clear answer. But deep wounds heal and bruises disappear. I take care of them the best I could. I stay inside of my world for a little while, resting before going on a new crusade.

I probably don’t know how to live differently. My world is a dream. Maybe the crusade and the mission too. Maybe the wounds and the suffering are just part of the dream. Only the quest for love is true. Like my breathing.

A closer look

Follow my eyes – This is the world I see – The world of my normal daily life

Buildings – walls – sky – still-lifes – trees – Everything seems normal and familiar – My eyes are accustomed to these images without noticing them anymore. The existence of these things surrounds me but I don’t always see it. But if I take a closer look, I give them more meaning and sense, not something particularly more important or intellectual. I just look at these images with more awareness. And it feels good.

Just like you who seems normal and familiar. In your stillness. In your presence and absence. Yet if I take a closer look at you, you are everything. You mean everything to me but it is so obvious that I don’t SEE it anymore. My eyes don’t see you because I am used to you.

I just need to get a closer look at you to feel different in my world. And to see you again.

The vastness of the world

Sometimes when I miss you so terribly, the world around me which usually is such a vast space, suddenly seems to get smaller and smaller. It is as if I was stuck in a matchbox, with no escape, except the idea of you and the feeling of missing you. It is a strange sensation.

I felt it yesterday night once again. I got a bit of fever. As my body ached, it seemed like the only part of me which was awake was my mind. I dived in a very deep  thought. My body wanted to float but the pain bedrid it. Then more than ever, my mind like a feather detached from my body. With one thought, clear and strong, all was about you. The world became such a narrow space by then. The only thing left was you, not even my mind.

Usually that is the only moment I accept to be held in a narrow place, to give up my freedom. The only moment I accept not to be able to flee. The only moment I accept that the world has nothing more to explore. When I am stuck with you, in my mind.

When I miss you so terribly, you replace the vastness of the world. And conquer the rest of my world.

Two suns and two moons

These last few days

There were two suns

You and the other one

These last few nights

There were two moons

You and the other one

Was I dreaming?

My universe is different from the other one

I was surrounded by your glittering aura

Days and nights

Generously I offered myself to this world

Of two suns and two moons

Feeling warm

Feeling blessed

Over caressed by your fingers

Effortlessly made of thousands of twinkling lights